Rain
by bandwitch
Summary: One of the main differences between Mello and Near had always been that Mello demanded knowledge, whereas Near simply absorbed it from the strangest of places. Mello cannot tell what Matt is thinking. Questions ensue. [MelloMatt, shounen ai.]


**A/N:** Yes, I believe this is called procrastination. xDD; "Firsts" will be updated, I have started the next chapter, it's all good. I wrote this for a constest over at the MelloMatt LJ comm (the deathline is tomorrow). Enjoy.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Death Note.

**Edit**: I completely forgot the disclaimer. XD And I found a couple of spelling errors. Yes, I'm picky. Sorry. ;

* * *

It was one of those days that are common during the beginning of winter – the kind of day that seems to project the upcoming penetrating cold of winter. The dreary sky rains warm drops of water down onto the fading grey of the sidewalks and concrete, graffiti-spattered buildings. The moisture becomes the ceiling, floor, and general air of the world. The general populace groan, pull their coats tight to their bodies, perhaps fling a scarf messily about their necks, and crank up the temperature in their houses in anticipation for the colder days to come.

Of course, Mello was not, by any means, the general populace. Dressed in slightly torn and faded leather, with a scar ripping across his face and back, and pure black polish chipping off his nails, he carried himself like a king; and a king does not, by any means, stay inside and do nothing, no matter what the weather happens to be.

Matt was slouching lazily on the couch, head slightly cocked towards the ceiling, fingertips brushing against the fabric of the cushions. His goggles had fallen down onto his nose.

From behind him, the door burst open and light but loud footsteps pounded into the room. Matt sighed and pushed his goggles back up over his eyes.

"We have a meeting with someone," intoned the voice from behind him. "I arranged it for today. Come on."

The car was loud; Mello was blasting his choice of music, which was, of course, hard rock. As they set out, neither of them said anything; but it was far from an uncomfortable silence. Matt didn't think they'd ever had one, actually. They both had a pretty mutual understanding of each other, and so an uncomfortable silence was not only improbable, but unacceptable to Mello.

One of the main differences between Mello and Near had always been that Mello demanded knowledge, whereas Near simply absorbed it from the strangest of places. Mello did not have nearly enough patience to sit back and do such a thing; but after he departed Wammy's, he found that he actually had the time, and began to do so more often. After a while, it became habitual; and thus, he could usually sense anything different about Matt in a heartbeat because his brain simply absorbed it.

Of course, there was more to it than that: if Matt cared about Mello knowing any of his feelings, he wouldn't make them so easy to pick up on, but he knew that Mello would find out anyway, so he didn't much care.

This was why, in the past few days, Mello had been utterly flabbergasted. There was something up with Matt, this much he could sense; but what, he didn't have the slightest clue. This annoyed him mainly because he knew that this was because Matt was hiding away this particular thing from him. And today, he resolved to fix this.

Matt knew something was about to happen as soon as Mello turned the volume down.

"Matt, we need to talk about you." Mello was so short and to the point that Matt sometimes didn't even think he was human.

"Mm." This acknowledgement was enough to keep Mello going.

"You're hiding something from me, and I'm not going to sit with that. Now, spill it, or I'll make you." Matt simply turned away and looked out the window. He lightly traced vague patterns on the window with his finger – the only thing that indicated to Mello that he was upset.

"Oh, just tell me, for Gods' sake; how bad can it be?" Mello let out an impatient grunt of frustration. He'd already been angry, yes, but this was just pushing him over the edge; and when Matt did not stop poking at the window, he emitted another grunt and abruptly pulled the car into the next lane. When a passing Porsche honked at him, he flipped them off and hissed, "Oh, just fuck 'em," under his breath.

The small vehicle violently skidded to a halt and Mello wrenched his door open and stalked around to Matt's side. He opened the door and pushed his face directly in front of Matt's.

"Now, _tell me_." His breath was hot on the other boy's face, the moisture settling onto his nose. A tiny wisp of blonde hair flitted onto Matt's lips. Mello found himself unable to speak, and simply stared. Matt's breath was coming in hard, breathy puffs of smoke, and Mello realized belatedly this his was as well. Their breath mingled in the freezing midmorning air, entwining and becoming one breath out of one united being.

"Do I have to make you?" came the harsh reply; harsh not in meaning, but in sound, for Mello found himself choked up and unable to force a proper speaking voice out of his throat.

Matt trembled under Mello's intense gaze, but could not make words come out of his mouth even if he tried. Mello's leather-clad fingers brushed against his own, and he could feel a warm, pleasurable sensation pooling in his lower abdomen; tried to resist it, even, but as he looked up to meet Mello's gaze, all coherent thought flew from his mind. The sensation was growing, spreading up through his chest, making his fingers tingle and setting his groin afire.

Mello leaned in as far as he could without their lips touching. The only noises were Matt's short gasps, Mello's ragged breathing, the sounds of cars on the highway (as distant as they could possibly sound), and the rain, constantly pattering down on them.

Mello's hesitant fingers brushing against his own; Mello's breaths mixing with his own in the frozen air; Mello's heated gaze, boring into every part of him, stripping him down to his very bones, _seeing right through_ him, causing that _feeling_ in his stomach: Matt never forgot that moment for as long as he lived.

Mello slowly pulled back, a smirk now gracing his pale lips. "I think I got the information I wanted. You've been very…helpful, Matt." His stride as he walked back to his side of the car was very deliberate; every step he took seemed placed purposefully to make Matt stare and think and love.

They never actually kissed.

And the rain fell.

_I can take my clothes off  
I cannot fall in love  
You'll never see my eyes  
I will not call you back  
I cannot do the smurf  
I cannot fall in love  
I'll never fall in love  
I cannot fall in love..._  
-  
The Frug, by Rilo Kiley


End file.
